‘I will say yes.’
‘Whatever it might be?’
‘Not if I perceive it to be evil. Other than that, yes, anything.’
‘Evil? An interesting concept. When you have walked this world for ten thousand years you begin to see matters differently. The fox eats the partridge chicks. For the fox it is a delightful breakfast. For the mother partridge it is an evil calamity. It all becomes merely a case of which perspective one takes. The partridge or the fox.’
‘More than a thousand children were slaughtered in the Perdii valleys,’ said Conn, ‘because they had no value in the slave markets of Stone.’
‘In my life,’ replied the Thagda, ‘I have seen tens of millions die. I will see you die, Connavar, and your sons and their sons. How many men have you killed, and deprived the world of their sons? How many children became orphans because of your blade? You think those children see you as good or evil? It is in my experience that the race of Man does little that is good, and much that is self-serving and, ultimately, evil. But I did not bring you here to debate. Walk with me; there is someone who wishes to speak with you.’
They walked on, deeper into the wood. There, sitting by a tree, his twisted limbs heavily bound, sat Riamfada, as Conn had last seen him, his face pale and pinched, his eyes large. Conn’s heart leapt. He ran forward and dropped to his knees beside his friend. ‘Oh, but it is good to see you, little fish. How are you faring?’
Riamfada gave a happy smile, then reached out and took Conn’s hand. Conn was surprised to feel flesh as firm as his own. ‘I am well, Conn. Better than I have ever been.’ Conn glanced at the ruined legs.
‘I thought you could walk?’
‘I can. I can walk, run, dance. I can soar into the air and see the mountains from below the clouds. I thought it would be more . . . comfortable … for you to see me as you remembered me.’
‘I have missed you,’ said Conn, sitting beside him. ‘We all have.’
‘I have not missed you,’ said Riamfada, with a shy smile. ‘I have been with you. I have watched you. I was there, though you could not see me, when we healed you in the land of the Perdii.’
‘Why did you not show yourself?’
Riamfada grinned. ‘I thought I had, when I left you my sword. Did you like it? It will never rust, nor need sharpening. It will be bright and keen for as long as you live, Conn.’
‘Aye, it is a fine weapon. But why did you not speak with me?’
‘I am with the Seidh now, my friend. There are strict rules concerning contact with . . . mortals. We break them very rarely. But I asked if I could speak with you one last time.’
‘I’m glad you did.’
‘As am I. I wish I could tell you everything I know, Conn. It would gladden your heart, and spare you much pain. But I cannot. All I am allowed to say is this: keep all your promises, no matter how small. Sometimes, like the pebble that brings the avalanche, something tiny can prove to be of immense power.’
‘I always keep my promises, little fish.’
‘Remember, Conn, no matter how small.’
Conn laughed. ‘I will remember.’
‘So what are your plans now?’
‘I have blacksmiths all over the Rigante lands making mailshirts.
These I will give to warriors who will become part of a small, elite fighting force. I brought back stallions – big warhorses, and I am breeding a new herd, of stronger mounts. Did you know I am the Long Laird’s heir?’
‘Aye. And I have seen the horses. They are beautiful.’
‘Beautiful?’ snorted Conn. ‘They are magnificent. Used well they will help us against the Stone army.’
‘You will need more than big horses, Conn.’
‘Aye, I will need a disciplined army, well supplied.’
‘You will not defeat them with the Rigante alone. You will need the Norvii, the Pannones, and all the other, smaller tribes.’
Conn nodded. ‘This has been troubling me. All the lairds are singularly independent.’